


The one that (almost) got away

by weestarmeggie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22099222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weestarmeggie/pseuds/weestarmeggie
Summary: A misunderstanding of epic proportion results in Hermione and Draco splitting up. Can Draco prove to the nay-sayers and himself, that he's not a coward after all and win her back?
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Theodore Nott, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 17
Kudos: 381





	The one that (almost) got away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsRen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/gifts).



> 2019 was a really hard year for me but you helped me through it in ways you won't ever know limb. I wanted to have this done before Christmas and then before the new year but alas, better late than never. Enjoy this measly offering - i hope i've done your favourite trope justice - i love and appreciate your frienship so much.  
> Thank you to Riverwriter for the beta and to everyone else reading too, enjoy!

“So that’s it then? We’re done?”

Draco had been called a coward many a time in his life and on each and every occasion, he’d been deeply offended. He wasn’t a coward. He was just trying to do the safest thing for him and his mother. He hadn’t wanted anything to happen to her while he was away at school, so he’d endured the pain of the dark mark and completed the horrific task of repairing vanishing cabinets and even though he hadn’t been the one to kill Dumbledore, it hadn’t been from lack of trying.

After the war he’d endured the taunts and snide remarks that came from having been cleared of any and all wrongdoing and gone back to Hogwarts determined to get the grades he wanted. He kept his head down and bit his tongue. He went to the ministry and worked the same menial internships as his peers even though he had the option to run Malfoy Industries, just as he’d been groomed to do from a young age. 

When Potter had extended a hand to him two weeks into their time together at the Ministry, he’d taken it without a second thought (quite unlike Potter had treated him all those years ago) and slowly, but surely, both of their friendship groups had come together and eventually, without thought, he’d started falling for Granger.

It was like all his Christmas’ had come at once when he found out she’d fallen for him too.

“Draco?”

Draco blinked back tears as he gazed at his girlfri - ex-girlfriend now and stared down at his hands, resisting the urge to clutch at the engagement ring that was nestled - and had been nestled for the past month now - in his trousers and instead swallowed and met her eyes.

He couldn’t ask her now. She’d never believe that it was what  _ he  _ wanted. 

Never mind that he’d asked his mother for advice on decorating the Malfoy townhouse in London to accommodate their future family. Or that he’d already purchased them a house in France, something for them to pass onto their kids that would just be theirs and not part of the larger estate. 

If it hadn’t been for that  _ stupid _ bet he’d made with Potter about who would propose first, because they knew both Pansy and Hermione would balk at the idea of a joint proposal - Pansy because how  _ dare _ she have to share her moment and Hermione because they both knew she’d hate anything public. And so, they’d flipped a coin. Multiple times, until Draco was sure that there was no possible way Harry was cheating and that he simply had lost.

Potter would propose first and Draco would wait. 

If he had simply refused Potter’s offer of friendship that day at the ministry, the same way Potter had rejected him all those years ago then he wouldn’t be in this mess,  _ but then you wouldn’t even have had the chance to be with her at all,  _ his subconscious provided helpfully. 

His relationship in tatters.

He nodded and looked up from his hands to meet her eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured. “We’re done.”

She stood and Draco suddenly realised that they’d been right. “Why?” She demanded. “Why now?”

He was a coward. And a fool. And-

“Because I can’t give you what you want. Because you deserve better than a convicted criminal as your husband. Because I don’t want to be here when in ten years time you realise what you had to give up to be with me!”

He could feel her glare burning into his skull, but he simply sat there. “Unfucking believable!” She muttered.

“What about the ball?” He asked suddenly, fingering the velvet box in his pocket as a hasty plan formed behind his eyes. Maybe he still had a chance.

“Oh,” she murmured, shrugging her coat on and flicking her hair over the collar as she fixed her scarf and did everything she could to avoid looking at him. “I suppose it’s too late for either one of us to find another date.” 

“That and Potter plans on proposing to Pansy tomorrow. It would be selfish of us to detract from their announcement with our own.”

Her nostrils flared as she glared down at him. Draco stood in an effort to hide his burgeoning erection. Now was not the time, no matter how enticing she looked.

“You’re right,” she sneered and Draco flinched at her tone. 

Of course she was upset. They’d spent the past two years together and now they were breaking up because he was afraid to ask her to commit herself to him and his shady past for the rest of her life. A coward.

“We’ll act like everything’s fine. Wouldn’t want to spoil anyone  _ else’s  _ Christmas,” she mocked, choking back a sob. 

Draco stepped forward, his hand reaching for her before he dropped it in realisation. “Hermio-”

“Just don’t,” she muttered, pressing her eyes shut as she took a deep breath. She opened them and looked up at him. Draco’s heart fell into his stomach at the devastated look on her face. “We’ll tell them after Christmas. At New Year,” she said, nodding to herself. 

“Are you sure?”

She laughed, a harsh and bitter sound as she stepped towards the floo. “I don’t want their pity.”

And then she was gone in a flash of green flame and Draco dropped to his knees as he wondered how on earth he was going to fix the almighty fuck up he’d just made.

* * *

Hermione glared at the box she found on their bed - an unmade bed that looked like it’d been tossed and turned in all night - the next afternoon after she’d returned from work. She’d barricaded herself in her office the night before, and after a fitful night's sleep on her office couch, she’d warded her space - in an effort to deter any visitors - and simply stared at the mountain of paperwork she was supposed to be clearing before she finished for the holidays, and cried.

She’d been terrified when her feelings for Draco had manifested, sceptical when Harry told her that he was sure Draco felt the same. 

And he had.

They’d been inseparable since and it wasn’t long before their relationship gave both Harry and Pansy the courage to pursue their own. 

And they’d been so happy, or so Hermione had thought, but as their friends grew more serious in their relationships, Hermione and Draco just didn’t. Sure, they’d moved in together but it was hard to ignore how Ron and Lavender were pregnant, or how Ginny and Blaise were already married. Harry had told her about his plans to ask Pansy to marry him and whilst Hermione was ecstatic for her friend there was that nagging voice in the back of her head, that sounded suspiciously like an eleven year old Hermione, wondering just what she and Draco were doing. Did they plan on  _ only  _ playing house for the rest of their lives?

Hermione thought she’d dropped enough hints that she was ready to take the next step in the preceding weeks, but Draco had seemed distracted and anytime she insinuated that she wanted to talk he brushed her off until she’d confronted him and everything had fallen apart.

She tore the ribbon from the box and shakily brushed her hand over the velvet green ball gown, tears gathering in her eyes. It was the dress she’d seen in Paris when Draco had whisked her away for her birthday, and she knew that Narcissa must have mentioned how much she loved it to her son (Hermione had refused to let her boyfriend's mother purchase it for her and there was no way she was willing to drop an entire months wages on one silly little dress - no matter how pretty it was).

She glanced at the clock and brushed the tears from her cheeks. She’d heard from Draco only once, when he’d sent his patronus to her office at lunchtime to let her know he’d be  _ home _ at six to pick her up and with little more than an hour till his arrival, she swept into the bathroom and began to get ready.

* * *

Draco stepped through the floo and frowned at the stillness of their flat. 

He’d swung by Hermione’s office to make sure she’d received his message but she’d already been gone and so he’d nipped back to the manor to get ready - apparating into and from his childhood bedroom so he didn’t have to see his mother and explain his presence (though she no doubt felt his presence rippling through the wards) - before returning home. 

He stalked through their flat until he arrived in their bedroom in time to see Hermione emerge from the ensuite. 

His breath caught as his eyes raked over her and as his knees fell out from beneath him and he landed with a thump on their bed, he sent a quick prayer to Merlin and any other deity that might deem him worthy of their pity, that he would be able to make things right with the love of his life.

Any failure on his part wasn’t worth thinking about.

“You look beautiful,” he managed, as she swept a brush through her hair and combed it to one side so that it lay over one shoulder in a cascade of curls.

Her eyes flicked to his in the dresser mirror as she fixed a pair of earrings and her lips twitched into a small smile. “Thanks. You don’t need me to tell you how good you look of course.”

“Bab-” Her eyes flashed dangerously and he swallowed. “Hermione. You know if you want to pretend that nothing is wrong, you're going to have to not flinch when I call you that.”

“I know,” she murmured, her head tipping back as she blinked rapidly. “But this is hard Draco.” She took a deep breath and looked right at him, cutting him to the core with that look of devastation once again. “All I want to do is crawl into your arms and knowing that you don’t want me-” She sobbed and Draco stood, crossing the room quickly to take her into his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I do want you. Of course I d-”

“Lets just go,” she muttered. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m just...Let’s just  _ go. _ ”

Draco stroked his hands down her bare arms as his eyes flickered over her face and his fingers wrapped around her wrists. He pressed his thumbs into her briefly before he let her go and followed her from the room and back into the living room.

“Do you want me to take us to my room first?”

She shook her head. “No. The sooner we get this night over with the better.”

He nodded, summoned her coat from it’s hook at the front door and without another word, apparated them to the receiving room of Malfoy Manor.

* * *

“Are you ok?” Daphne asked, pressing a glass of champagne into Hermione’s empty hand. “You look a little pale.”

She waved her friend off and took a dainty sip of her drink. She couldn’t afford to get pissed. She and Draco hadn’t had a conversation about their sleeping arrangements and she knew from experience that a drunk Hermione was a horny Hermione.

“I’m fine. You look nice.”

“I look thrown together,” Daphne snorted, taking a long draught of her own champagne. “Blame Theo for springing this on me last minute. I really do hate international portkeys.”

Hermione smirked at her friend. “Yes. A true trial to be dragged away from Italy to attend a magnificent ball,” Hermione waved her hand in front of her to indicate the opulence of the Malfoy’s ballroom, “at short notice.”

Daphne glared at her over the rim of her glass. “Well we can’t have sex while we’re here so.” Hermione snorted and choked when the liquid shot out her nose. “Actually,” Daphne continued, “this is all Draco’s fault. If he hadn’t sent that blasted letter we wouldn’t be here at all.”

Hermione stilled, before forcing herself to relax. “Oh?”

“You don’t happen to know what it was about do you?”

Hermione shook her head and raised her drink to her lips once again, stilling when she felt an arm - Draco’s arm- wrap around her waist and pull her into his chest. 

“What are we talking about ladies?” He murmured lowly, his warm breath tickling the shell of Hermione’s ear, forcing her to melt into his embrace.

“Nothing.”

Daphne wasn’t so easily dismissed though. “Oh you know. Just what could be so important as to drag me and Theo away from out sexcapades.”

“Daphne.” Hermione hissed just as Draco and Theo chuckled quietly. 

Her friend wasn’t deterred though and as Draco moved his arm, till his fingers were interlaced with Hermione’s, he replied: “Just a small emergency.” Hermione tensed when she saw his eyes flick in her direction. “Something I hope to have smoothed over by New Year’s Eve.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed, “I need the ladies.” Stepping out of his arms and making her way across the room, she heard Daphne’s mutter of ‘oh’ before she found herself waylaid by Narcissa.

“Hermione darling-”

“I’m sorry Narcissa. The ladies is calling and-”

“Of course. We’ll catch up on your return.” She beamed down at her and Hermione forced herself to breathe in an effort not to cry. “You look beautiful darling. I knew that dress would be spectacular.”

Hermione nodded and without a backwards glance, escaped through the double doors, edging her way through the guests who were still arriving until she was finally alone and could let the tears fall.

* * *

Draco watched Hermione go with a frown. The way she’d stilled in his arms when he’d wrapped one around her had chilled him and he suddenly realised that he might have gone too far. That he might not be able to win her back.

_ Coward _

He didn’t even notice Daphne leaving him alone with Theo until his best friend elbowed him in the ribs and glared at him. “You need to fix this.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Theo taunted, “because from what I’ve seen your little letter didn’t do the situation justice. You had more than a fight didn’t you?”

Draco drained his firewhiskey before grabbing another from a passing floating tray and draining that too, wincing at the sharp burn that seared his throat and glanced at his best friend from the corner of his eye. “We broke up.” Theo paled and Draco thrust another tumbler into his hand. “I know.”

“But….But…..What? How? When? What about the ring? Did she say no? What?” He asked helplessly.

Draco swallowed and looked out over the party once again. He saw Potter dancing with Pansy and knew that soon enough two of his closest friends would make the commitment that had ruined his own relationship. And then the party would wind down and he’d have to tuck Hermione into his arms again and act like she was the most important person in his life, which of course wouldn’t be a hardship at all, because she  _ was  _ the love of his life and -

“Draco.” Theo. He turned and looked at his friend, his eyes flicking to the once again empty glass in his own hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” He lifted another glass and privately swore this would be his last of the evening. He shrugged as he took a slower sip this time before turning to face his friend head on. “I never asked. I’ve been waiting for the right moment and it just hasn’t presented itself and then Hermione was sitting there - she was right fucking there Theo - staring at me with those big brown eyes of hers asking me where we were going and what the future held and I just,” he took another sip and averted his gaze. “I’ve always been a coward Theo,” he murmured lowly flicking his friend a sad smile. “You know that.”

“I can’t…” Theo trailed off and Draco startled when he felt him grip his shoulder. “But you love each other. This can’t be it.”

Draco nodded and watched Hermione re-enter the room, her arm hooked through Pansy’s. “I do. Which is why I needed you to come home. I’m going to do everything in my power to get her back.” He sent his friend a rueful grin, “but I might need you to talk me down off any ledges until I do. He smiled when he caught the nod she sent Harry and pulled Theo along with him. “If I have my way, by New Years Eve’s end she’ll have agreed to be the new Lady Malfoy.”

* * *

There was no hope for Hermione because as she watched Harry propose to Pansy, she’d looked up and caught Draco’s gaze and decided that for just one night she’d let herself get drunk. Because at least if she was drunk, the ache that she’d carried around for the past two days would numb and she could  _ pretend  _ that everything was ok and that she wasn’t approaching her mid twenties with nothing but a cat for company. 

By the end of the night she was so out of it that Draco had to carry her through the floo, strip her down to her underwear, and lay her into bed.

“I hate you,” she hiccoughed, ignorant of how Draco flinched at her words. She felt around the space in front of her for him and when she wrapped her hand around his wrist she pulled him down onto the bed with her. “I hate your hair,” she mumbled, running her hands through it. “It’s always so perfect and shiny and mine is just bleugh.”

Her hands trailed down over his head until they cupped his face and she ran one long fingernail down the bridge of his nose, flicking it as she muttered about how symmetrical it was before she skimmed her fingertips over his lips. The pad of her thumb pressed against them and she swallowed roughly as she murmured, “your lips.”

“Hermion-”

“Why did you make me love you if you were just gonna leave me?” She asked, tears pouring from her eyes and snot dribbling from one nostril, as she dropped her hands and wrapped them round herself, burrowing further into the bed as she sobbed. “I love you so much,” she whispered, dropping off.

When she woke the next morning it was to Draco sleeping fully dressed atop the covers beside her, their hands joined together, fingers interlocked. She stared at their hands for a few minutes before she shook herself, extricated herself from his grip and made for the ensuite.

He was gone when she emerged, a note simply reminding her of the dinner they were expected to attend, at her parents’ later that evening.

* * *

Hermione sat sullenly on the couch as her parents’, their best friends (coincidently her god-parents) and both sets of grandparents laughed and joked and teased her  _ boyfriend. _

And she scowled when he lapped all the attention up like it was his God given right to receive it. Like he had any intention of making himself a permanent part of her family and every year joining in with her dad's ridiculous tradition of making a Christmas pudding from scratch, or her grandmother Granger’s ridiculous attempt at charades, or enjoying her godparents retelling of how they’d reconnected after seperate gap years when they’d run into each other on their first day at university.

She picked at a loose thread hanging from the cushion she had clutched to her stomach and glared at him.

If she glared at him she wouldn’t be tempted to cry.

If she focused on how angry she was she could remember that they’d broken up and not fall into the trap of smiling at his laugh or laughing at his charade attempts.

“Are you ok love?” Her mother asked, noticing the fierce look on her face. Hermione swallowed and managed a small smile. She did not want to tell her parents they’d split up when they had so many visitors.

“Just a headache.”

When her grandfather whipped out a bustle of mistletoe, from nowhere as far as Hermione could tell, and Draco finally looked at her, she stood abruptly from the couch and stomped into the kitchen.

Her mother had plied her with three glasses of wine at dinner simply because Hermione had refused one and her mother had asked if she was pregnant. She’d drank them all to prove a point but then her mother had cajoled them into agreeing to stay the night instead of attempting to apparate home drunk.

“Won’t Daddy mind?” Hermione had asked. Every other time they’d slept over Draco had been relegated to the guest bedroom, but her grandparents were staying for Christmas this time and there was no guest room to spare.

Helen snorted and smirked at her daughter. Hermione had the oddest feeling she was missing the joke. “No. I don’t think he’ll mind at all darling.”

“There you are. I was wonderin-” Draco walked into the kitchen. 

“I’m going to bed.” Hermione interrupted, draining her fourth, perhaps her fifth, glass of wine before slipping it into the dishwasher. She looked up at Draco to see him frowning at her and felt a tiny bit of relief that he wasn’t trying to  _ fake _ his mood with her.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asked, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, avoiding her eyes and stepping aside to let her mother past.

She simply blinked at him before eventually shaking her head and pushing past him. “I don’t care.”

She feigned sleep when she heard him slip into her childhood bedroom. He’d been in there before of course, but they’d never shared the bed and now the first time they would, he wouldn’t even be hers.

Eventually she felt the bed dip and then he clambered in beside her, careful to keep his appendages to himself.

Her eyes shot open, but otherwise she remained unmoving, when she felt him trail one finger over her shoulder blade before he pressed a chaste kiss to her skin.

“I….” She heard him swallow and then he was turning around, leaving a gap between them, and she fell asleep.

* * *

The days after they returned from her parents were quiet.

Neither one had work, but they each had commitments with their own friends to celebrate and exchange gifts and so they barely saw each other. Draco had taken to sleeping in their spare room and even though they were simply pretending for everyone else, the gesture still hurt.

He’d removed almost all of his clothes from their shared wardrobe, his toiletries from their ensuite. Hermione wondered why he hadn’t asked her to move into one of their spare rooms instead, especially when she knew she’d be the one moving out of the townhouse which had been a gift from his mother.

They only had to keep the pretense up for a few more days. And it was that thought that had Hermione visiting empty flats in the days leading up to Christmas, especially since she didn’t want to intrude on Harry and Pansy (even though she knew they’d be more than happy to put her up while she sorted her shit) or any of her other equally loved up friends.

The first few properties were awful and she came home each time lamenting the fact that she’d probably have to accept that the next place she lived - alone - wouldn’t have a standalone clawfoot tub, or a walk in wardrobe, or a spacious living room framed by a marble fireplace. 

She’d almost given up hope of finding somewhere and was resigned to the fact she’d have to move in with Harry, at least temporarily, when on Christmas Eve, hours before she and Draco were supposed to put in one of their final appearances as a couple, she received an owl from Gringotts informing her of an upcoming available property.

“You’ll be happy to know I’ve found somewhere to live,” she told him when she finally arrived at The Burrow later that evening. She was the last to arrive and Molly was herding them all into the kitchen to fill their plates from the buffet she’d laid out.

He stiffened beside her and she watched him from the corner of her eye, turn to speak to her when a voice interrupted.

“Aunt Hermione!” Victoire squealed, launching herself into Hermione’s arms when she spotted her.

“Hello Sweetheart,” she murmured lowly, stroking her pseudo niece’s hair back from her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Are you excited for Christmas?”

She carried her into the kitchen, leaving Draco behind, but when she re-entered the living room, filled with all the Weasleys and most of their friends, he pulled her into his lap and began to feed her the food from her plate with his fingers.

Her glare flickered between the sausage roll he was offering her and his smug face before she opened her mouth and let him feed her. 

“This is embarrassing.” She said, loud enough that only he could hear. He chuckled and shifted her on his lap so that she had to pull the hem of her dress down.

“This is what couples who are in love do Hermione.” 

She snorted. “This is what Lavender does for Ron,” she corrected. 

His free hand moved from his own knee and came to a rest on hers. She tried not to stiffen under his touch but when he began to caress his knuckles against her bare skin she jumped from his lap.

“Alright ‘Mione?” Harry asked as she passed him. She nodded and with a quick glance in Draco’s direction, swept across the room towards the stairs.

“I’m fine. Just need the bathroom.” 

She splashed her face with some water and stared at her reflection. After tomorrow, she wouldn’t have to see Draco again. 

_ He doesn’t want to see you at all _ her subconscious supplied helpfully. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder what he was playing at. They had never acted so sickening (feeding each other food - she wanted to barf) in front of their friends before. She’d felt Ginny’s amused stare burning into the side of her face while she’d been sequestered on Draco’s lap and had zero interest in explaining what the hell that had been about.

She took a deep breath, exited the bathroom and almost knocked the person who’d been passing by at that exact moment straight down the stairs.

“Woah. Gosh Hermione,” they teased, their hands coming to a rest on her bare shoulders, “I’m sorry for whatever I’ve ever done to offend you so much that you’d want to murder me.”

She grinned up at the dark shadow before her and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Charlie! I didn’t know you were coming home!”

He chuckled into her neck, his breath hot against her skin and she swallowed as he placed her back on her feet, his hands still resting on her hips and looked her over.

“Surprise for Mum. How are you? You look lovely.”

She ducked her head, and hoped, that even though it was almost pitch black in the narrow hallway, he couldn’t see her blush.

“I’m good.”

He hummed noncommittally, his fingers stroking over her hip bones. “Still with Mal-“

“Hermione?”

They both turned to see Draco standing at the top of the stairs watching them. Even in the low light Hermione could see that he was pissed off. His jaw was clenched and his hands were so obviously  _ itching  _ to reach for his wand.

“Malfoy,” Charlie greeted, dropping his hands from Hermione and leaving them to it. Draco begrudgingly stepped aside as the elder Weasley moved down the stairs and then he was standing in front of Hermione, glaring at her.

“What the fuck was that?”

She snorted and stared up at him. “Seriously?”

He only continued to glare down at her, stepping forward and caging her between him and the wall. Hermione felt her knickers dampen at the pose and bit her tongue. “I’m waiting!”

She blinked at him before pushing past. “I don’t have to explain myself to you Draco. Not anymore.”

He followed her down the stairs, into the kitchen and out the back door. “You do when we’re supposed to be  _ in love _ ,” he hissed.

She rounded on him, summoning her coat and bag from inside the house. “Fuck you!” She hissed. “It is no longer any of your fucking business who I speak to or how I act. You have made your position quite clear.” Her possessions came flying out of the house and she shoved her arms through the sockets of her coat. “If I want to  _ speak _ to another man I will.”

“He doesn’t want to speak to you,” Draco hissed, stepping towards her. 

She smirked at him as she hitched her bag on her shoulder and grasped her wand in hand. “Oh I know. He wants to  _ fuck _ me.” 

She apparated away and knew she only had minutes before he appeared at home too. Narcissa had failed in many ways as a parent but the manners she’d instilled in him from a young age would win out and he’d make their excuses to their hosts before he left.

She rushed down the hall into their room and summoning their packing trunks, (last used when they’d moved in together), activated the runes on them. She was in the middle of changing when she heard Draco arrive home.

“GRANGER!” He roared. She could hear him storming towards their room and swallowed, glancing at her wand that she’d left lying on her vanity. She wasn’t afraid of him but she wasn’t particularly interested in having another argument. 

She’d been a fool to think they could act like nothing had changed between them when everything had.

“Go away Draco!” She said, glaring at his reflection in her vanity mirror, when he appeared in the doorway. “I don-”

He’d stormed across the room, grasped her arm, pulled her into him and slanted his mouth across hers to shut her up and for  _ a second _ she responded, pressing her tongue into his mouth and nipping his bottom lip between her teeth before her common sense caught up.

She pushed him away with both hands and panted, “what the fuck?” He surged forward and pressed her into their bedroom door. “Draco. Stop! What are you-”

“I was going to ask you to marry me.” 

She stopped flailing about and stared blankly at him. “What?”

He chuckled ruefully and tucked one curl behind her ear as he hitched her further up the door and pressed her tightly between it and him. “I’ve had the ring for months now. And I was waiting for the perfect moment but then you ambushed me,” he rambled, not meeting her eye, “and I didn't want to do it because I didn’t want you to think I didn’t really want to and-”

“You,” she swallowed and cupped his face within her palms. “You want to marry me?”

He finally met her eye and she felt tears gather in her own at how dejected he looked. “I want forever with you. I’ve wanted forever with you since I was nineteen.”

“Then why did you say you didn’t?” She whispered, tears slipping over her cheeks.

He cupped her jaw between his hands and pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Because I’m an idiot. And a coward. Because I was afraid.”

She stared blankly up at him before she nodded and nudged him. “Let me down.” He startled back from her, wringing his hands as he watched her pace in front of him.

“Hermione?”

“I can’t,” she pressed a hand to her chest and took a deep breath, cutting her eyes in his direction. “I can’t understand why you would put me - put us - through all of that instead of talking to me.” Her breath hitched and she waved her hand dismissively when he took a step towards her. “Don’t. I’m just.” She stared helplessly at him. “What?”

‘Time to man up,’ Draco thought. “You’ve had to deal with so much since we got together. All the sneers and the under-breath comments. You’re never going to get a promotion if you’re with me.”

She glared at him. “Not true. Harry and Pansy-”

“Potter is Our Lord and Saviour,” he rolled his eyes at the title but mollified in the face of Hermione's glare. “It doesn’t matter who Harry is with, especially considering Pansy doesn’t have this!” He shoved the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and Hermione stared blankly at him, even as he thrust his arm at her. 

“So what? You thought that a promotion meant more to me than you?” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him. “Are you sure that’s it?”

Draco blinked at her. “What?”

“I’m not stupid Draco. I know your father’s due for release within the year. I know you haven’t been to visit him, regardless of how much your mother has begged you to.” Draco could only stare at her. 

Sure, he hadn’t been to visit his Patriarch but it had nothing to do with her. Or well, it had nothing to do with him being ashamed of her and more to do with the very thought of the man made Draco want to hit something. 

His father had had numerous opportunities to  _ kill _ her. Didn’t she understand he was trying to protect her from him? From the fit he’d surely throw when he found out about their relationship. 

“I just - I thought you loved me!” She sobbed quietly and Draco’s heart shattered. He dropped to his knees and gripped her hips. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I do - I do love you. More than anything. I was just trying to protect you. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m useless Hermione. I have nothing good in my life except for you-”

“That's not true Draco!”

“It is! You,” he peered up at her, “ _ you _ are the only thing I care about. I don’t care about what my father thinks - what anyone thinks about me. I only wanted to protect you - not hold you back.”

“How can I believe you when you were just going to let me walk away?”

He shook his head fervently, clutching her hips tighter. “I wasn’t - I just needed some time to convince you that I do want the same things as you. I,” he swallowed roughly and averted his gaze, “Potter and I had a bet.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously and he spoke quickly lest she begin to hex first, ask questions later. “About who would get to propose first. I lost. If I’d won this never would have happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. You wouldn’t know about his plans to ask Pansy and so you wouldn’t have started thinking about us. Started doubting that we weren’t going anywhere.” He took a breath and stood, grasping her hand in his as he met her eyes. “I want to get married. I want to take you to that tiny church in Cornwall where your parents got hitched and get married there too. I want to take you to Japan, to Thailand, to Egypt. Everywhere. I want two kids, but if you want more then we’ll have more.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t care what anyone thinks of  _ me _ . Just you Granger,” he tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “I asked Theo to come home to help me. I thought I’d have more time to convince you of the truth. To-” he broke off, his eyes squeezing shut and took a breath before he looked at her again. “To stop being a coward.”

She stepped back, dropping her hands from his and he began to panic. “Hermione. You can’t - please don’t leave love!”

She laughed shakily, shaking her head. “No. I’m not - I,” she swallowed and walked towards the bed, glancing over her shoulder at him. “You said were….”

He blinked at her once, twice, before he crossed the space between them, nudged her onto the bed and knelt at her feet. Hermione swallowed as he held his hand out and a black velvet box flew into it. “Am. I am asking you to marry me.” He flipped the box open and she gasped at the sight of her grandmother Williams engagement ring nestled within.

“My parents know?”

Draco snorted and grinned up at her. “Everyone knows.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she murmured, leaning forward to trace the ring with her fingertip. When she looked up Draco was looking at her with one eyebrow raised and she rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even asked me!” She huffed.

He smirked and nodded. “You’re right. Hermione-”

“Yes.”

“I haven’t even asked,” he laughed.

She shook her head and slid into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pressed her mouth to his and breathed, “I don’t care. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

His hands,tightened around her waist as he kissed her hard and slipped the wedding ring that had been passed down through her mother's side of the family onto her finger. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry I put you through this week. I-”

“I forgive you,” she murmured, winding her fingers through his hair, admiring her engagement ring and angling his head this way and that so she could press her mouth to his neck. “I missed you so much.”

He stood suddenly, still holding her and her legs automatically wrapped themselves around his waist, his erection pressed firmly between the apex of her thighs. He lay her down on the bed and with one hand, pinned her wrists above her head while the other sneaked between them and into her knickers. She bucked into his touch when he dipped two fingers into her slit before teasing her clit. 

“Tell me,” he grunted, conjuring a ribbon to tie her wrists together before spelling them against the headboard, “is this for me?” He pressed two fingers knuckle deep and leered when she rocked against his hand. “Or is it for Charlie?” He sneered, pressing a third into her.

She stilled, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. “I didn’t. I wouldn-”

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he leaned forward and pressed a rough kiss, all teeth and possessiveness, to her mouth. “Doesn’t mean you were wrong though.”

“Wrong?” She whined when he removed his hand and began to tug at his own trousers. His cock, already hard and thick and throbbing with arousal, slapped against her cloth covered cunt and she pulled harder on her restraints. She wanted to wrap her hands or her mouth, or  _ something,  _ around it. Draco beat her to it though and began to fist himself as he leaned over her with one hand resting on the bed beside her head.

“Wrong. He definitely wants to fuck you. Too bad he’ll never get the chance,” he grunted, tearing a hole over the crotch of her knickers and sliding home with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“Oh God.”

He snapped his hips hard and fast, lifting one leg onto his shoulder and kissing, nipping the calf with his teeth. “You take my cock so well sweetheart.” He pressed two fingers to her cunt and rubbed tiny, tight circles over her clit. “You gonna come?”

She huffed a breath and pouted up at him. “I don’t know. Are you going to make me?”

He stopped abruptly, narrowed his eyes and slipped from her. He flicked his wrist, released her from her bonds and flipped her over onto her knees, before he began the brutal thrust of his hips once again. He fell back on his haunches and pulled her onto his lap, snaking one hand around her waist to cup her cunt, his fingers slipping over where his cock joined her. His other hand wound into her hair and he yanked her head back to breath into her ear. “You’re mine.”

“I am. Oh fuck - Draco please!” She begged.

He cupped her hips with both hands and bounced her on his cock, his forehead pressed into the space between her shoulders, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweat that had gathered there. “Come sweetheart,” he panted, “I want to feel my  _ fiance _ come on my - fuck yes there you go,” he cooed, bending her over and snapping his hips once, twice, before he ground himself against her arse and came too.

“You ok?” He murmured into her neck a few seconds later, holding her to him so she didn’t collapse face first onto the bed and he with her. 

She nodded and turned her head to press a kiss to his mouth. “Perfect.” He slipped from her, smirking at the groan the action elicited before he turned her gently and cradled her beneath him. 

He stroked his fingers over her face and shifted over her. “I love you so much. I...” He trailed off and simply breathed against her sternum. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Draco-”

“No.” He peered up at her. “I don’t. But I will spend every day for the rest of our lives proving myself to you. I won’t let your career suffer because of me.”

“I don’t care about that,” she snorted and before Draco could rebuke her, she went on. “I’m about to marry into the wealthiest wizarding family in all of Britain.”

“Europe!” Draco corrected.

“Europe,” she agreed. “My  _ fiance _ ,” she smirked down at him, stroking her fingers through his hair, “and my best friend both sit on the Wizengamot. Just let them try and hold me back.”

She closed her eyes and opened them again at his mouth sliding against one of her nipples, still encased within the lace of her bra. “Draco?”

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

She simply smiled down at him. “Me either. I love you. Even if you are an arse who comes up with a half-cocked plan to break my heart to prove his love.”

He sighed and dropped his head to press a skin to the curve of her breast. “Did I say I’m sorry?”

She laughed, nodding. “Yes.”

“Let me show you.”

“You just did,” she laughed again, whimpering when he clenched the nipple between his teeth. 

“No. That was ‘make up’ sex. This will be ‘you’re going to be my wife’ sex.”

She bit her bottom lip and smirked down at him, her eyes flicking from his face to his rapidly returning erection. “Oh. And what's that like?”

He slipped further down her body and grinned up at her when he spread her labia and breathed against her clit. “Like this.” He flicked his tongue down over her slit and sucked her clit between his lips, his forearm pressed down over her stomach so she couldn’t buck away from him. “You taste so good love.”

She squirmed in his grip and felt herself flush red with embarrassment. “That’s - amm you know - fuck….” She trailed off, shuddering, both hands yanking on his head, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to pull him away or press herself further into his mouth as she came. He flicked her clit one last time before moving up and over her again. He pressed his lips to her neck and she could feel him smirking even as he shifted himself and his cock slapped against her wet cunt.

“I know. I taste good too.”

She bit into his shoulder and muttered, “shut up,” just as she wrapped her legs around his arse and flipped him onto his back. She smirked down at him as she lifted herself onto his length and whined as she slid down.

“I love you.”

“Hmmm. And my big cock,” he teased, palming her tits.

She nodded, both palms pressed against his chest as she bounced gently on his lap. “You and your big cock.”

Draco leaned forward and pressed open mouthed kisses over her chest as she grinded on him, his pubic bone rubbing deliciously against her clit until she was so worked up, all it took was for him to pinch her nipples - one with his mouth, the other between two skilled fingers - for her to fall apart around him, the fluttering of her cunt dragging him along too.

“That was-”

“Yeah,” he murmured, rubbing circles into her shoulder as she cuddled into him, one leg thrown over his hips as he pulled the duvet over them. When Draco glanced down at her she was twisting her hand this way and that, admiring her ring.

“You happy?”

She grinned up at him and pulled his face down to meet her lips. “So happy.”

  
  



End file.
